


Promotion

by gentlesouthernsun



Series: Fractals [1]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Casual Reference to Kidnapping, F/M, Fem!Sherlock, Gen, Implied/Referenced Drug Use
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-05
Updated: 2014-05-05
Packaged: 2018-01-22 00:51:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,201
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1569908
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gentlesouthernsun/pseuds/gentlesouthernsun
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"When a player, having the move, plays a pawn to the rank furthest from its starting position, he must exchange that pawn as part of the same move for a new queen, rook, bishop or knight of the same colour on the intended square of arrival. This is called the square of ‘promotion’. The player's choice is not restricted to pieces that have been captured previously. This exchange of a pawn for another piece is called promotion, and the effect of the new piece is immediate."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Promotion

He is not unaware of the new player in his game. How could he be? It is the king’s duty to be aware of what is happening in his kingdom, to take note of threats and possible advantages his opponents may have gained.

The entrance of pawns is of no concern to him. After all, they are not dangerous unless they get close, and he is very good at keeping pawns away from his more important pieces.

This one presents no threat, as far as he can tell, as far as any of his men can tell.

Until, of course, this insignificant pawn begins to consult with the police, and three of his more illustrious clients are arrested for supply and production of Class A substances. He manages to come to an _agreement_ with several members of the jury and the prosecutor, but the event perturbs him.

Several days later, he is presented with a complete dossier. Willemina Sherlock Siobhan Holmes: university graduate ( _her field of study had been in constant shift– criminal justice, philosophy, literature, dance, marine biology, psychiatry, biochemistry_ ), sister of the brightest star covert politics had ever seen ( _Mycroft Holmes, and wasn’t that fucking brilliant_ ), former addict ( _heroin, the reports said, was the most prevalent – she had frequented_ his _dens, the dens run by his clientele_ ), consulting detective ( _"The Science of Deduction" and the analysis of 243 types of tobacco ash, bless her_ ). It is an interesting biography, to be sure, but there is no concrete evidence that she is _special_ , not yet– and then, he comes across Ms. Holmes’s school behavioral records. The reports of cheek and of verbal assaults on her teachers amuse him, but they are not what intrigue him.

 

 

> _1989 – W. Holmes sent to headmistress after repeatedly saying that the death of Carl Powers was not an accident; continued on with fanciful theories after being asked to stop talking and sit down._

* * *

When he finds her sitting on his armchair, he is not surprised.

“If you’d wanted to chat, you might have called,” she hums, tapping out a rhythm against her leg, and he laughs at her smirk, because she has no idea, cannot have any idea, why he has had her brought to him.

"You do know that the bribery of a jury and a prosecutor is illegal, don't you?"

He can't help smiling, and he shakes his head, because the last thing he wants to talk about is something as trivial as fixing a court case. He tells her as much. She tilts her head, her eyes shifting all across him, across the room, across anything anyone has left out, and he's feeling uncomfortable and exposed by the time her eyes refocus.

“Carl Powers. I knew his sister, briefly. I wouldn't blame you for doing him in, if they were anything alike."

He does not know what to say, cannot understand why, and he _hates_ that she knows, _hates_ that he has underestimated her, _hates_ this woman sitting on _his fucking chair_ like she has a right to be there.

“Thank you for having me,” she says, as polite as you please, as if this was a social call, as if he hadn't had someone kidnap her and bring her to his home. "Until next time, Mr. Moriarty."

She’s given him her number, and he thinks he might call.

* * *

He knows everything she does, knows her schedule like he knows his own, knows the days that no one will mind when she disappears for a few hours, knows the best ways to sneak her away from the not-so-secret eyes of her brother.

They play chess ( _she always sets the board, giving him the ebony pieces though he's fairly certain she knows he prefers to play the ivory)_ and she never wins, not against him. Her pawns never make it to the other side of the board, something he knows she’s repeated to her brother when he stops in to check on her, something that’s repeated with emphasis or hissed through clenched teeth whenever the elder Holmes tries to get her to tell him anything.

Sometimes Moran will play her, when he’s busy taking calls, and he’ll stand behind the sniper, whispering advice that is never taken, because there is nothing his trigger hand delights in more than frustrating him.

Sometimes they do not play chess. They talk about the weather, about politics, about art exhibits, about some of the little domestic cases she has. Never anything about his work, or the work she does with the Yard. Never anything about her brother, except when she’s complaining about the bugs she’s found scattered throughout her living space or the flatmates he’s tried to force on her.

She comes to his apartment on her own once, is waiting in his chair, setting up the board.

That day, he does not win a single game. She does not speak, just moves her pieces and predicts his next move before he is even sure what those moves are. Her pawns get very close to the other side of the board, but he is sure to take those out, even as her knight or her queen or her bishop moves steadily towards his king.

She wins thirteen times, stands, and pulls her coat on, ties her scarf on tightly, and turns to leave.

She stops at the door, looks at him with something he does not understand in her eyes, tells him goodbye. Uses his first name, something that she does not do, does not ever do – and he jumps to his feet.

* * *

She does not visit again, refuses to leave her flat when she sees the inconspicuous cab waiting outside, refuses to take any cases, refuses to take his calls. Refuses to take any calls that do not originate from St. Bart’s or Scotland Yard.

He knows her brother is concerned, he knows that they both know she has cartons of cigarettes hidden in the strangest places, that she has a fully stocked liquor trunk hidden in her closet. He knows Moran is worried about him, about the possibility that Willemina fucking Holmes has left a hole in his heart ( _like he's a schoolboy who's had his heart broken by the playground beauty, as if he hadn't grown out of sentimentality as soon as he'd grown out of nappies_ ), is worried about  Willemina Holmes herself, who he knows keeps a syringe in her bedside table because he isn’t stupid, because Jim’s bugged her flat just like her brother has, had no qualms about bugging her bedroom.

He knows she takes out her chess set and sets it up ( _and the ivory side is missing a queen, and he wonders if that means something, if she knows he's watching and is trying to tell him something_ ) but does not touch it, that she just stares at it with such intensity he would not be surprised if it erupted into flames.

* * *

It’s when he settles down to teach a client a quick lesson in strategy that he notices. He sends off a quick text to Moran telling him to check the building’s security film from the past forty-eight hours.

She’s stolen the ivory queen from his chess set.

**Author's Note:**

> This wasn't beta'd or britpicked, so please let me know about any errors so I can fix them.
> 
> Alright, so: here we go!! I've got everything for this entire storyline up until the end of HLV in show canon planned out, and I'll be adding extra bits from ACD as the feeling hits. I'm really, really excited about this one, and am determined to see it to the very end.
> 
> My tumblr is 'landserene'. Feel free to remind me to continue working or to offer suggestions or con-crit!


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